Welcome, sweet springtime, tis thee we adore

I don’t think it matters where you hang your hat. The weather this winter has been pretty darned awful.

Through much of this foul season, we’ve been assuring ourselves that this has been nothing more than a ‘traditional” winter, with the sorts of snow and cold we enjoyed endured as children.

But even those dire winters of my youth featured things like a January thaw, a spate of nice days in February, and a gradual but noticeable (and exceedingly well appreciated) warm up during March.

You know, those days when you can actually smell spring…

Yes, I do have one brave crocus pushing its head up. And I have seen a robin.

But, yikes, it was 16 degrees when I went to put the trash out last Monday – 16 degrees on St. Patrick’s Day! That’s just wrong.

Thanks to my sister Kath and her husband, Rick, I did get to take a most welcome break, a they invited me to join them on their more-or-less annual trek to Arizona.

So I got to spend a week lolling about in a heated pool, trying to figure out just how many types of cactus there are (answer: lots), wishing I lived in a place where bougainvillea blooms, and slathering on SPF 70 sunscreen. (Sunscreen. Imagine that.)

While I don’t think I could take a steady diet of Arizona: too hot in summer, a terrain that’s a bit too moonscape for my liking  - not enough green, not enough water, and a tad bit too right-wing – it sure was nice to be in a sun-baked environment for a change. And to take hikes where I got to see things like desert poppies and javelinas.

I was actually disappointed that the only javelinas I saw were in an enclosure in the quite wonderful desert museum. In past visits, Kath and Rick have seen troops of javelinas marauding through their neighborhood on trash day. Alas, we didn’t get to experience the Parade of the Hungry Javelinas this time around.

It is, of course, no surprise that the javelinas make themselves at home in the developments around Tucson and Phoenix. Until a few years ago, this was their home. And they were home alone. Then all of a sudden, their habitat was our habitat. Poor babies!

When I arrived back in Boston from Arizona, it was 20 degrees or so. Brrrrrr.

And, although we did have a day or two that were relatively balmy in the last week, it’s been mostly chill.

Next week promises to bring more of the same.

But spring has officially sprung, so can a bit of warmth be all that far behind?

I am so looking forward to shedding my fleece, my down parka, my knee socks, my wool scarves.

I am by no means a sun-worshipper, but, boy, could I do with a bit of warm. (OMG, Rod McKuen and Listen to the Warm just popped into my brain. Next thing you know, I’ll be looking for my copy of The Prophet. I’m going to blame this on the cold, which is clearly impacting my ability to think clearly.)

It’s March 21st. Bring spring on!